


Here's My Bleeding Heart, Bro

by froyobro



Series: Long Exposure Fun Stuff [3]
Category: Long Exposure (Webcomic)
Genre: :/, Abuse, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Beta Read, Physical Abuse, kinda gross, non-explicit blowjob, not detailed, tw abuse, tw bulimia, tw food disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 06:40:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11526663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froyobro/pseuds/froyobro
Summary: Jonas's dad is The Worst. Carmen's fault. Mitch almost fucks stuff up but then... not???





	Here's My Bleeding Heart, Bro

**Author's Note:**

> oi so as u can see i luv Long Exposure (cool webcomic by Mars/smokeplanet literally it's so cool im lov) here's a self-indulgent hurt/comfort bc ive dealt w asshole dads lyk this so i wish it would have panned out like this: funny, kinda gross, WICKED GAYYY :-) Lettin' yall know this is p shitty bc i wrote it in 2 hrs. All characterrs belong to mars n theyre wicked cool pls, if u havent already, reaaddd tthisss commiicc!!!!!!! Sorry this fic is shitty n self indulgent :/

Mitch wiped his mouth, succeeding in only spreading the vomit on his cheek and his hand. _Well_ , he thought, _havn't washed my hands in a few days, what better time'n now?_

His aunt was asleep in her couch potato chair, the channel turned onto "The Price is Right."

Mitch hated "The Price is Right."

After patting his face and rubbing his hands with cold, faintly smelly water, he shut off the tap and began walking to his tiny closet of a room (like that witch kid with the dick scar on his forehead). Before he could settle in, get his hand in his pants, and jerk off to a stuck-up spotted gorgeous human, there was a knock at the door. He heard his aunt snort through her snores, as if the sound had woken her up, but Mitch knew in his heart of hearts that the old bag was in a Vodka-induced coma for the next ten hours.

He put on a shirt that said, "Feel me up, Buttercup," and grumpily trudged to the door. The trailer wobbled from side to side with each of his stomps. As the screen door squeaked open, Mitch had to look a whole foot down to see...

"Hey, nerd!" Mitch greasily smiled, hoping his breath didn't smell too strongly like vomit, even though he could still taste the acid on his tongue. However, his grin dulled when he took in Joey's face.

The red lines under his eyes were puffy, and there was a lot more puff than usual on his left cheek.

"What the fuck, Jo?"

He sniffled and rubbed one sleeve-covered hand across his nose before biting his lip. He was trying to stop crying, so he could speak. It broke Mitch's heart.

"C--can I come in? Are you busy? B--because I get it, I sorta ran here without thinkin' and maybe I should just--but I...I c--can't go home! I'll--"

Mitch grabbed the collar of his hoodie and dragged him inside, letting the door slam shut behind them.

Aunt Lorraine snorted once more, but her head never shot up.

Mitch shoved all of his wrappers on the floor and placed Buddy on his nightstand. The taller boy definitely knew something was wrong when Jonas didn't even acknowledge his beloved roadkill or wrinkle his nose at the smell of teen spirit.

Mitch plopped next to him and hooked his arm around Glowbug's shoulders, tugging him to his chest (friends do that, right? Wait, does Joey consider me a friend? Fffuuuckkkk).

Jonas just leaned his head right above Mitch's heart and sniffled.

"Your shirt is dumb," he mumbled after a minute.

"Yeah yeah, shut it ya dork." Mitch squeezed him once before continuing, treading lightly for once. "What happn'd Spots?"

***

It all started when Jonas came home that Friday. Dean was still at the station, but Sue looked frazzled.

Sid sat at the dinner table and started to help her shuck corn. The Wagner twins liked Sue, maybe because she was bullied by Dean as much as them. Jonas sat at the table and began scrolling through his phone, but he listened to the conversation nonetheless.

"Is everything okay, Sue?" Sid asked tentatively. Their adopted mother was shaking a little bit, making it more difficult for her to shuck the corn (Aw shucks, Jonas thought with a shuck-le).

Sue finally put the cob down and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before plastering on a smile. Her eyes were watery. "Oh, you know, Dean just had a tough break at work. He was a little upset over the phone, and you all know how I am with yelling." She laughed humorlessly, self-deprecatingly.

Sid nodded. "You wanna take a nap before he gets home? Jonas and I can make dinner--" Dean had made them do it many times before, to 'prove them useful in this house for once.' "--and I'll wake you five minutes before he gets home."

Sue looked like she was about to cry again. Sid tried to hide her discomfort ( _crying people._  *shudders*). "Would you mind?"

Jonas was about to interfere. "Well, I have a lot of homewo--OW. Oh no, yeah, it's fine, Sue." He glared at Sidney and rubbed his ankle.

Making dinner was kinda cathartic for the twins, though they'd never voice it out loud or else be put to permanent kitchen duty. Jonas was never good with cooking so he mostly just cleaned and set the plates, while Sid went to work. Sometimes Jonas would mix or taste, but mostly he didn't want to get in the way of his pushy sister (he thought lovingly).

Then Dean decided to come home earlier than usual.

"Sue? Sue, what's for-- oh. So you two are making dinner?"

Dean looked more angry than usual, his dark brows furrowed permanently and a glint to his eyes that unsettled Jonas.

"I'll go get her," Sid mumbled before rushing out of the kitchen.

Jonas got fidgety. A lot of the foster kids were in the living room or messing with the ears that were peeled off the corn outside. Dog-Boy kept barking at the table.

"Jonas," Dean glared at him (or was that just his normal face?).

"Yessir?" Jonas asked, not able to keep eye contact so instead he mixed the already-fluffed mashed potatoes.

Dean hung his jacket up and stalked over to the kitchen, peering into the pots and pans. "Will this be enough for everyone?"

Jonas nodded. "Um, Sid and I counted the servings so I think we're--"

"Good. I'm going to check on the other kids."

Jonas pitied the round-up.

 

After dinner, everyone put their plates away and went up to their respective rooms. It was well past seven, and Jonas wanted to get a head-start on homework so that he could enjoy more of his weekend (maybe get some suck-up points from Dean and be able to go out?).

However, before he could mount the stairs, Dean called out his name from the kitchen.

"Jonas, get down here."

Jonas made eye contact with his sister at the top of the stairs. His eyes screamed " _HELP_ " and hers whispered " _I'm here_ " before she sat herself at the top, hidden behind the banister. Jonas's racing heart settled a little.

When he turned the corner to the kitchen, he saw that something was in Dean's hand.

His phone.

Crap! He left it on the table while he was cleaning his plate!

Dean then held it out, showing the screen.

On it, there was one text.

"Hey Jonah! I was wondering if you wanted to study together for the next chem test? I heard you didn't do so hot on the last one..."

Sent ten minutes ago.

"And what did you get on the chemistry test, Jonas?"

He gulped. His stomach dropped. "Well, it was a really tough chapter, and, you know, I was sick for three days last week, and--"

"I'm not in the mood to beat around the bush, boy!"

Jonas jumped. "Seventy-eight, sir."

_ WHAM! _

Before Jonas could even lift his hands in self-defense, Dean had back-handed him, landing perfectly, practiced, on his left cheek.

Jonas whimpered before clutching his throbbing cheek, tears unwillingly filling in his eyes.

"You are the oldest man in this house besides myself. I will not tolerate you slacking off. You have a responsibility, Jonas. Stop letting this family down."

_We were never and_  will  _never be a family_ , Jonas thought maliciously.

"Now, go. Don't cry like a girl." Dean walked around him and slammed the door to the master bedroom.

Jonas went back into the foyer and looked up at Sid, who clutched the bannister like a lifeline.

"Jojo..." her eyes were filled with tears as well. Jonas just turned away and ran outside, down the street, running just to run.

He didn't think of any destination in mind, but...

***

Mitch's room was shaking. Things were spinning around the both of them. The arm around Jonas's shoulder grew tighter as Jonas continued to sputter out the story.

"I'm gonna fuckin' _KILL_ that fuckhole!"

Jonas jumped out of Mitch's arms and onto the dirty floor when the taller man started to yell. He didn't even think, he just wanted to get away from the noise.

All of the objects clattered to the ground. Mitch crawled to the ground, keeping a foot of distance between him and Joey, his eyebrows furrowed in worry. "Shit shit shit Joey, 'M sorry, I wun't thinkin'. Shit, I'm sorry Spots."

Jonas lifted his head a little, spluttering out an, "It's okay. S'not your fault."

Mitch relaxed a little at the sign he hadn't _completely_ fucked things over. "Is it okay if I hug ya again? Promise I won't scream in yer ear," he added with a grin.

The grin was returned with a reluctant hint of a smile, and a leaning forward so Mitch could wrap both of his lanky arms around Jonas easier. Without thinking, Mitch kissed the top of his head.

"I gotch'yer back, Jonas," He whispered. Jonas hiccuped.

"'M sorry for dropping in like this, th-thank you, Mitch."

Mitch clenched his trashcan-lid hands into Jonas's sweatshirt. His heart hurt a little bit. In a good way. That's a thing right?

"Wanna go destroy stuff?" Mitch asked.

He could feel a smile in his grubby t-shirt.

***

Jonas waited outside the trailer as Mitch brushed his teeth (which was a good thing because Jonas was starting to feel the vomit smell rub off on himself). Finally, his lanky, unlikely friend slung an arm around his shoulders and they started walking towards the rundown amusement park. Jonas used some of his lights to guide the way, hoping nobody decided to look out the window at 9.30 at night to see glowing streaks. Good thing they only had to walk through the trailer park and some forest to get to their destination. Mitch reassured him that no one in the trailer park gave a "fuck-shit" about anything, so Jonas reluctantly embraced the green and blue within him to highlight their path.

Once at the park, Mitch gestured to the bathrooms. "Let's destroy these dirty ass-stained toilets, because they sure look 'n act like your fuckwad adopted dad!" Mitch glared at a spot and completely obliterated it, honing in on his own anger. There was an entire stall reduced to planks of wood and chunks of dirty porcelain.

Jonas took the cue and summoned the colors, slowly bleeding from blue-green to red, climbing up up up into the sky, before whooshing down with incredible speed and power to pummel the bathroom to a pulp. The remains were grains of what used to be.

***

"Damn, Spots." Mitch stood looking between what _was_  the poop-smelling bathroom to the guy who just gave him a boner.

Some red was still dozing around him, like a snake; the color seemed relaxed, but could pounce and bring everything around it to ruin with the flip of a switch.

Then, they faded and instead Jonas's cheeks grew red. "Um."

"How'd it feel?" _Did you get a boner too?_

Finally Jonas turned to him and smiled a little bit smugly, the tears gone (for now).

"Fucking amazing."

Mitch howled into the air and jumped around and picked Jonas up and swirled him around and Jonas was giggling and Mitch felt so fucking _good_  and he let Jonas down but his arms were still around his spotted _metal-as-fuck_  friend...

Friend...

Mitch looked down and saw the welt darkening on Jonas's cheek, and winced (Jonas thought Mitch was wincing at his normal face, and became immediately embarrassed; he knew he wasn't really anything to look at but for some reason Mitch giving him that face _hurt_ ).

Then, surprising both of them, Mitch brought one hand to Jonas's cheek, the un-bruised one, and turned his face to get a better look at the blue and purple.

***

Jonas's eyes fluttered closed at the feel of Mitch's lips on his bruised cheek. It stung, a little, but mostly, Jonas felt _good_. It clicked that Mitch must have seen the mark Dean left behind, not his own face, and he took a minute to sigh in relief before focusing on the little tickle near his mouth from Mitch's chin hairs. His lips were warm, a little wet. He knew why because before Mitch leaned in, his tongue darted out (deliciously) and then he leaned forward.

When Mitch backed up, only an inch, Jonas felt cold all over. That dark part of his brain feeding into the enjoyment of Mitch's embrace and Mitch's kiss yelled at the logical part to lean forward, to _bring those horse lips back, dang it!_

Reluctantly, Jonas opened his eyes. But Mitch wasn't looking at him. Instead, his gaze was enamored with the pink swirling beautifully around them, like a dance that no one practiced but could feel in their hearts. It was all twirls and dips and moonwalks. And Mitch's eyes glowed, reflecting the warm color. His hands clenched arrhythmically in Jonas's sweatshirt.

"Is that a good color?" Mitch added dumbly.

Jonas took Mitch's face in both of his hands, tugging him gently to face the smaller man. "What do you _think_ , dummy?"

***

Mitch's cheeks were squished as he looked down at his Glowbug, his eyes furrowed in confusion and disbelief. Jonas had on a small smile, his dilated pupils more obvious through the reflection of the pink still filling the air around them. Mitch leaned down inch by slow inch, closer and closer to Jonas's face, until finally their foreheads touched, and Mitch nudged at Jonas's nose. His eyes fluttered shut, reveling in the fact that he had never been in such an enamored, freeing state of being unless he was dreaming of him and Buddy walking through zombie-torn fields of waist-high grass, the ground nourished by the guts of all the asshole father figures he'd ever encountered.

Jonas could feel Mitch's warm, tooth-paste breath on his mouth. All he could think of was wanting more. So, he leaned forward that half inch and their lips lightly brushed. Mitch started, eyes bulging open, before realizing what was happening and tugging Jonas closer to his chest.

Their kiss started off soft and slow. the two backing up every few seconds to take in a breath, never separating more than an inch, before rejoining with renewed fervor. Mitch furrowed his brow in concentration and kept one hand on Jonas' lower back, bringing his right one up to brush through the curls he'd dreamt of since fuckin' middle school.

Jonas himself wrapped his arms around Mitch's thin waist, rubbing up and down his back so he could continuously remind himself that this was real, that _Mitch_  was real, so he could put his mind (and heart) at rest.

Soon, Mitch was biting at Jonas' bottom lip, sucking a hickey into his collar bone ("make sure I can cover it up," Jonas said as Mitch trailed kisses down his neck. It was unspoken, but both understood why they had to take this precaution). Jonas shuddered when those big, sexy hands of Mitch's (sexy? he _really_  had to re-examine his kinks) clutched at his ass, one cheek in each hand.

"FuCK," Mitch hissed into the crook of Jonas's neck. "I fuckin' love yer ass, Joey. You're so fuckin' sexy."

Jonas could only moan and clutch at Mitch's shirt.

At one point, Jonas found himself pressed against the wall of the arcade booth, moaning at Mitch's searing touches. Neither of them knew what time it was or really where they were or if there was an apocalypse happening around them, all that mattered was lips and hands and tongues and _f--fuck, Mitch, do that again_.

Mitch brought his mouth back up to Jonas's sloppily, his own lips tingling from pressing roughly into the beauty of Jonas's body. He pressed his right cheek to Jonas' right cheek, so that he spoke directly into his ear. "Can't wait til you take a shower, touch your fingers to your body, where I touched you. So you don't forget this." He backed up to look into Joey's eyes. "Yano, I don't want this to be a one-timer. I want to be with you, Spots. Like, dating. For realness."

Jonas laughed right in his face. Ouch. Then, "I could have put that together, dork."

Mitch clutched his hand to his chest mockingly. "Who you callin' dork, dork?" Then Jonas shoved his shoulder, grabbed the collar of his shirt, and crushed their lips together.

_Fuck yeah,_  Mitch thought, _this was_  totally  _worth brushin' my teeth for._

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments appreciated!! thnx u for reading


End file.
